Teenage Domestic Violence... *TRIGGER WARNING*

This really hits me close to home… To start off, watch this video. It’s from What Would You Do, and it’s about teen violence. NOTE: If you are easily moved, or upset by topics like this, don't read any further. It's going to go very in-depth and detailed... and may very well cause flashbacks or other reactions from people who have been abused... 

I’ve been in this situation. And it’s hard because sometimes even teenagers don’t think it’s wrong. Sometimes no one will stand up and help.

I want to tell you about my teenage years. I didn’t know any better about what was expected in a relationship, and how things were supposed to work. Just because I had seen my parents and their relationship, doesn’t mean that things were always supposed to be like that… and I didn’t know any better.

When I was 15, I began dating the brother of a good friend of mine, a girl who played Varsity Basketball with me. For a long while, things were fine. And then they changed, slowly, gradually… my boyfriend began to call me horrible names… he called me a bitch, and a slut, because my ex, who I was good friends with, would call to make sure that I was ok and see how our friends were doing, since he had moved away. My boyfriend began to control every aspect of my life, from the way I dressed, to the way I ate. He wanted me to eat less so that I would fit in a smaller size, and I had never been less than a size 12 since I had hit puberty and became 5’5”. I wasn’t overweight by any means, but I wasn’t rail thin either, and he expected me to look like the girls on the magazines and on the porn websites… tiny, thin… and ready to put out whenever he wanted.

By the time I was age 16, he had forced my hand down his pants a few times... However, he seemed to listen when I told him no and that I didn’t want to do that… I had been trying to wait until I was ready to lose my virginity. The only person I had felt comfortable with in that regard was my ex, the one who had moved away. My boyfriend was not happy about that, he wanted me to do those things with him, things that I had barely done with my ex. (My ex and I had just begun, before he moved, exploring each other with hands and eyes. And we hadn’t planned to go farther than that.) It made him angry, and so, the verbal abuse doubled. I was told I was an idiot, that I was a stupid female. I believed him. My grades dropped from As to Bs… and for me, that was a BIG drop. I had been a straight A student since elementary school. Watching my grades drop was like confirming what he said. I listened. I should have left, but I didn’t. I should have left when the first slap came that year… I should have left when it escalated past slapping into hair pulling, pinching, and throwing me around. I didn’t.

When I was 17, the end of my Junior year, he raped me. At the time, I didn’t know that it was rape when you said no in a relationship. I thought that once you were with someone, it was no longer rape, no matter how much you said no. My parents had never taught me about how relationships worked or the ‘rules’. I thought that sex came with the relationship whether you wanted it or not. He did it many times over the next couple of months… I guess he had gotten tired of waiting for me to say yes. He didn’t use protection… and I ended up pregnant.

I panicked. I had no idea what to do… I didn’t know my options. When I walked out of the bathroom with my 3^rd pregnancy test in 2 days, with bright pink lines, he got quiet and left the room. When he came back, he never spoke. He grabbed me by the hair and threw me to the ground, and began to kick me and scream in my face. In the time frame he had been out of the room, he had locked all of the doors to the building we were in, a store his dad owned, and put up closed signs. He kicked me for about 30 minutes, in my stomach, in my arms… and by the next hour and a half, I was bleeding from my vagina. I had a miscarriage. And I was ashamed to say I was relieved… I was never more glad to be bleeding in my life. I took myself to the ER, and gave a false name. I was treated for broken ribs and uterine damage, and my parents were called. I lied, and told them I was mugged… My doctor was understanding enough to not inform them of the miscarriage. And now, in hindsight, I know that not only was I wrong to ask the doctor to not tell them… but the doctor was wrong for listening. They never knew I had been pregnant, they just knew I was hurt. I recovered, and my boyfriend brought flowers and stuffed animals, and cards… he acted like a new person. I thought it would change.

I was wrong.

It NEVER changes. Ever.

It got worse. He began to use condoms whenever he had sex with me. By that point, like a child, I would just let my mind go to a different place. I would go away in my head. He had told me that he would shoot my family if I told them or left him, and I had seen his gun. I stayed in fear for their lives. I found out after the first time that he used a condom, that I was allergic to them. He didn’t care, so I had a rash constantly. I went and got seen at the doctor, and told my mother that I was sexually active. I didn’t tell her that I didn’t want to be, but she suspected. A mother knows her child. She asked me repeatedly if I was ok, if I was doing things because I wanted to… I lied again. I told her yes, I was fine. The doctor’s office told me I was STD free, thank God, and gave me a prescription for birth control pills. With those pills, my boyfriend became more possessive. He thought that me being on the pill would make me sleep around on him, although I had never given him reason to think that. He began to try and have sex with me daily, wherever he could… He’d drive into the woods and do it there, he’d drag me from the car to do it on the hood of the car, on the ground, wherever… A few times, he even had the balls to do it at my mom and dad’s house, while watching TV in my room. I felt ashamed, dirty, and used. I didn’t WANT this, but when I said anything, he accused me of being a whore and cheating on him.

By my Senior year, it was so bad that I had attempted suicide about 3 times. The final time would have succeeded, if my mother had not broken down the bathroom door and found me… I was in the tub, with all of my father’s painkillers in my system and my wrists slit from the hands to the mid-arm. She had seen the water spill over the tub and didn’t hesitate to break in. She saved my life. She called 911 before she got that door open, and she wrapped my wounds in towels and started forcing milk down my throat and then forced my body to puke. If she hadn’t done what she did, I would have died. Instead, they took me to the hospital, and I was bandaged and had my stomach pumped. The hospital called a pastor for a religious intervention, since the town I lived in was big on the bible belt, and I was given the lecture about how suicide was a sin and that I would go to hell if I died by killing myself.

I can assure you, that didn’t help.

 

I was in such a deep depression, that I didn’t care about graduating, or prom, or any of the things that I should care about. My boyfriend got his wish, I became a size 7 in a matter of months. I no longer ate my meals like I should. I had bruises hidden with layers of makeup and various clothes. I wore turtle necks, long sleeve shirts, blue jeans… in the middle of spring and summer. I wouldn’t wear bathing suits anymore, I wore shorts and t-shirts to my grandmother’s pool, because wearing a one piece was too revealing to him and I didn’t want to get the punishment for it. He called me fat constantly, and at that point, my mother was worried about my health because I was so small, so fast. My hair was falling out, and my teeth were loose from the lack of proper nutrition.

After I graduated, I wasn’t even motivated to go to school or the military like I had planned. I got a shitty job as a waitress, and I stayed at home all the time or I went with him out or helped him at his work.

All this time, people had witnessed him verbally abuse me, berate me, and even hit me a few times. NO ONE stood up and said, ‘Hey, this is WRONG!’.

When we broke up because he was tired of my depression, I was 19, about 6 months from 20. I had scars all over my body. My teeth were in bad shape, and my hair was a short, pixie-cut mess. I had cut it about a year before, to keep him from pulling me by the hair. It worked, but it got me all kinds of other comments, such as calling me a lesbian and a bull d*ke. I was broken and I could barely function from panic attacks and self-loathing. I hated myself. I felt used.

When my ex, the one who had moved, found out about it YEARS later, when I was 22… he flipped. He wanted to kill the guy. But he helped me get over it, to finally move on. And he’s been with me ever since. We have a beautiful child, and we’re expecting another one any day now. But I still get flashbacks and reminders of what happened. I still have times where I look back and feel like I’m used, and worthless. He helps get me past that. And I’ve grown to get MYSELF past it… because I want my daughters to know better. I want them to know that it’s NOT right. That they should never allow anyone to treat them like that, and that they should tell someone or stop it if they see someone being abused. If ONE person had stepped in, had told me that he shouldn’t touch me like that when they had seen it… maybe it would have helped me to leave.

One person can make the difference.

And if you are in a verbally, emotionally, physically, or sexually abusive relationship, PLEASE… do NOT stay. LEAVE and get help, there are places out there that will help you! There are places out there that will give you shelter, or help keep you protected, or help with telling your loved ones if you need that. You have NOTHING to be ashamed of, it is NOT your fault, and you should never feel like you are the cause of your abuse! Get help!

I know this isn’t the lighthearted blog I usually do, but I really had to share this. I know that this still happens regularly, in public and behind closed doors. We live in a society today where abuse is sometimes glorified in song or on TV, and that is wrong. And I think it’s time that I share this, to help spread the word. This part of my life is why I am pro-choice… because if I had stayed pregnant, I would have GLADLY had an abortion to not have that guy’s baby in me. To not be linked to that guy for the rest of my life. This situation DOES happen, and it’s vastly under-reported. I never reported him for what he did to me, and while I should have… hindsight is 20/20. There are a lot of things I should have done. And this happens to men too. Women can be the abusers. And men are LESS likely to report it, because they feel emasculated or weak to admit that they have been abused.

Please. If you know of anyone in a situation like this… step up and help in any way you can. Sometimes that one person offering help can make all the difference. 

10-Year-old boy goes for a Joyride... and people think that's cute?

Well, leave it to Cafemom to give me something else to write about. And people wonder why I keep that site on my facebook feed.

The main article in question is about a 10 year old boy who stole his parent’s car, and took off for his grandmother’s house. Oh, did I mention he had his 18 month old baby sister in the car with him?

Yeah…

“The boy – who lives near Dokka, a town 110kms (68 miles)  north of Oslo – put his 18-month old sister into the car sometime before 6am, while his parents were still sleeping and set off to visit his grandparents in Valdres, about 60 kilometres away.

He drove more than 10 kilometres before veering off the road, where he was found by a snowplow driver who alerted police.”

When asked questions by the police, “The boy told the snowplow driver that he was a dwarf and that he had forgotten his driver's licence at home.”

Apparently, the blogger on Cafemom thought that was HILARIOUS. Because, you know, lying to the cops is just so darn precocious! I mean, don’t we all want our children aspiring to be like this cute little thing??

Keep in mind, this child is 10. He is an age where he is fully aware of what he should and should not be doing, knows right and wrong, and that he should not lie.

Apparently, it’s still too darn cute!

No. It’s really not, and I really have to wonder about the people who think it is. It’s not cute or adorable when a child takes his baby sister to their parent’s car, and takes her for a joyride to his grandma’s house, in snowy conditions, ends up in a ditch, and then lies to the police. That is not cute. The sheer fact that some people think it’s funny, just because of his response to the police, amazes me…  And his excuse about being a dwarf wasn’t even that funny. So, how is this cute?

And yes, the parents have some responsibility here, but it’s not all on them… 10 years old is no ‘innocent’ age where they have no idea that it’s wrong. That kid knew he wasn’t supposed to mess with those keys. He chose to do so anyhow, and to put his little sister in danger too.

Like I said, that’s not cute. That’s dangerous. He could have killed himself, his sister, and numerous other drivers on the road.

I’m surprised the police didn’t do anything to be honest… Reckless endangerment, child endangerment, reckless driving, driving without a license… the list could probably go on. And he got released to the parents? This just feels like one of those cases where maybe the authorities should have done something with the kid… I know there are community service punishments that they could have doled out… Even if this is another country, I can’t imagine a 10 year old getting off without any issues with the law…

What do you think? Was it just a case of a precocious child’s antics, or should the punishment have been harsher? 

Main Article: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2558223/10-year-old-boy-steals-parents-car-visit-grandparents-tells-police-dwarf-forgot-drivers-license.html

Cafemom Article: http://thestir.cafemom.com/big_kid/168288/10yearold_drives_parents_car_into?utm_medium=sm&utm_source=facebook&utm_content=fanpage

10 Common Pregnancy Myths: DEBUNKED!

**NOTE! All of these myths are false for a NORMAL, healthy pregnancy with no restrictions from your doctor! If your physician tells you to not to have sex, for example, LISTEN to them! I’m a blogger, not a doctor! **

Ok, I’ve gone through this pregnancy thing before, so I knew the myths before I ended up with a bun in my oven this time. I remember how I was with Rayne though, and I thought a lot of this was true. It took a long talk with my midwife and later, my OB, to realize that this was all a bunch of hooey. These were all answered by OBs, in a different article. (or 2 or 3 or 12, since I made sure to look all of this up a few times before writing this!)  So, maybe for the woman who has a cat, or who can’t sleep on anything but her back, this will ease a few of your worries!

 

10- Cats + Pregnancy = BAD!

This is SO false. You’re not supposed to change the cat’s litter box, true.  But cats are not these evil, anti-pregnancy creatures that you have to get rid of when you’re with child! Feel free to pet and purr away!

9- Sushi is a NO-NO!

First, not all sushi is raw. Sashimi is the all-raw stuff. Eating the raw stuff during pregnancy IS bad. And second, as long as you watch what fish you’re eating, and how much of it, you’re fine. No mackerel, shark, swordfish, or tilefish. And tuna in moderation, no more than 12oz a week! So remember, make sure it's steamed at least, and watch what fish you eat!

 

8- Always sleep on your left side!

If you follow this, your hip is going to HURT after a while! Also, backsleeping isn’t as big of a deal anymore, either, so say the OBs. Sleep however you are comfy.

7- No coloring your hair/getting your nails done/etc!

Big false here. As long as you’re in a well-ventilated area, it’s fine. Like, completely fine! Your hair may react differently to products now that you’re rocking the bump, but otherwise it’s fine. Get that manicure or that color and style if you want, mama!

6- Coffee is bad for pregnancy!

Don’t drink a whole pot of the stuff, but a cup or two during the day is fine. Moderation is key.

5- Cocoa Butter prevents stretch marks!

Not necessarily true, and it can actually make things worse! It can make the skin more sensitive, and many women are allergic to it! Slather up if you feel you have to, but don’t expect a miracle stretch mark cream.

4- Any old wives tale about telling the baby’s gender!

The only things that will tell you a definite gender are doctor’s tests, an ultrasound, or lastly, the birth. Any old wives tales are guessing games, I don’t care what Gramma Ruthie says about how that pendant of hers predicted the gender of her girls. Lucky guesses.

3- Pregnant women should eat for two!

No, and we hear this one a LOT! We only need 300 extra calories per day for the pregnancy! We don’t need to gorge ourselves! If you want to, that’s fine, but eating whatever you want can actually be bad for the baby, not better for it.

2- The bigger the baby, the healthier it is!

False. The average baby weighs 7.5 lbs. The bigger the baby, the bigger the risks for future diabetes and obesity are. NOTE: They're still adorable as can be! But it being healthier for them to be bigger is a big myth. 

1- No sex!

No! This is false! And many of us would go NUTS if it was true! As long as mom is comfy, it’s fine! And I promise, dad isn’t going to poke the baby in the head, or take out the kid’s eye, or make a second kid in there! Be sure to tell him that, in case he’s worried about hurting the little one! Many men really think that sex and pregnancy are NO-go areas! The movements of sex can actually put a baby to sleep, like rocking in a cradle! Interesting, huh?

What old wives tales or myths have YOU heard about pregnancy?

Main Reference: http://healthland.time.com/2011/05/05/true-or-false-20-common-myths-about-pregnancy/

My 4 days Early Preterm Labor and 'Almost' Birth Story

Well, I went into labor yesterday.

Color me surprised, because before yesterday, my only big issues were black outs, and dizzy spells, and numbness of the legs… All of a sudden, I’m supposed to be almost completely on bed rest, minimal house work, minimal lifting of my toddler… And you know what, that’s going to be impossible. It really is.

First, my other half works 6 days a week, in the morning and afternoon. And he’s not that big on housework… if I leave it to him, I’d be swimming in piles of laundry and dirty pots and pans, and all kinds of other stuff that HAS to get done. So, I have to do it. I have to run errands since by the time he’s off, the utility company and banks are often closed. I have college work. I have to care for the snotface. I have way too much to get done.

And these things HAVE to be done.

I’m 36 weeks and 3 days. I’ll be 37 weeks on Sunday. I get why they want me to wait and take it easy, but I don’t see it happening… I don’t have the extra hands to be in bed with my feet up for the last 3-4 weeks of this thing!  

And don’t get me started on the hospital… the nurses were lovely, they were nice and all… but damn. I had a shot of Terbutaline, a labor stopping drug. I was told it would sting a bit. It BURNED like the fires of hell had gone into my arm! I’ve had a few shots that hurt, and HELL, not even my Spinal Block from my last C-Section hurt like this! She dismissed it, and said it’s not that bad.

And you are me, how? Yes, I know many women have no issues with these drugs, but when I scream, not from the needle, but from the pain of the medication, that should tell you something! My other half was worried I was allergic to it or something, because he gets a similar reaction when he has morphine.

Second dose of it? Just as bad.

And the kicker? Not only did my pulse soar to 145, and actually hit 160 at one point, but my baby’s went up to 220. I KNOW that’s too high. And no one did a damn thing. No one was the least bit concerned.

The contractions did stop… for 2 hours. Then the contractions began to come back, and the cramps were worse. I’ve been cramping since before they decided to send me home last night. They told me hot baths for the cramps and bed rest.

I also got Phenergan, and that just made me sick. Like… really sick. I was sitting up, and had to lay back from the wave of dizziness and nausea… No warning that it was going to do all that. All I was told, was that it would make me feel drunk.

This was not drunk. This was ‘Holy hell what the hell is going on here…’

My hand where she blew out my vein...
This was AFTER a pressure bandage
had been applied...

Oh yeah, and because the nurse didn’t want to listen to me about where my best veins were… she blew out a vein in my hand. I tried to tell her to go for the arm, but no. She insisted on hand or wrist.  I remember the issues my old OB’s office had with veins in my hands... it doesn’t work well. So, knowing I was right, and to be dismissed like that… ugh. And she even KNEW that the veins weren’t great, and tried anyhow! She said about 4 times how they kept twisting and rolling where she couldn’t get them…

I screamed like no one’s business when she put it in. I hadn’t felt pain like that in a LONG time. (Oh, yeah I had… about 2 hours earlier with the labor stopping meds… I had forgotten. My bad.)

And then, when even she looked skeptical, she turned on the IV pump. A lump immediately swelled up and I arched my back and screamed. I thought my hand would explode. And then she tried to blame it on me to another nurse, saying I had flinched when it was inserted. No, ma’am, I didn’t, my other half even told me I had laid as still as a board while she did it, and never moved until she said it was in. That was on her.

Now, I have NO faith in this place to do my C-section surgery. And I’m way too late to find another place.

I’m currently at home, cramping still, and exhausted. My kid has been a terror today… She has climbed me like a jungle gym, despite me even having to pull her off of me and tell her no repeatedly. She has jabbed her feet and elbows into my stomach in anger because I would not let her climb me. She has tried to crawl into the floorboard of my car after her doctor’s appointment and kicked me in the chin when I lifted her to stop her. She hit me about a dozen times in the Dr’s office. I tried to be nice, got her an Orange Julius since we had to rush out the door this morning… she dumped about 1/3 of it all over her sheets and mattress, and herself and played with it while watching Little Mermaid. And the constant whining has been just… nails on a chalkboard, people. Yes, I have gotten on her for acting like this today, she's not just walking all over me 24/7. It's just been one of those meltdown days...

I’m already over today. Is it bedtime yet?